


Crash Landing

by Sasa_Q



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Amnesia, First Contact, M/M, alternative universe, twist ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27259336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasa_Q/pseuds/Sasa_Q
Summary: Jean-Luc Picard dropped out of Starfleet after the stab wound to his heart. He didn't think he would ever see an alien again, let alone an alien crashing into his backyard one morning. The alien, who calls himself Q, has barely any memories. Picard takes him in, and the two of them grow close. Picard didn't realize how close, but one evening, as they look out at the sunset through the window, he finds himself focused more on Q than the view.
Relationships: Jean-Luc Picard/Q
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34
Collections: Qcard Big Bang





	Crash Landing

It was a lovely morning in La Barre when the starship crashed in the vineyard. Jean-Luc Picard was taking a morning walk when he heard the noise. It was enormous, like nothing he'd ever heard before. It came from the direction of the vineyard. Picard at first thought about running for help, but his curiosity outweighed that thought. As soon as he came around the corner of the house, he could see it. It was some sort of machine, or at least that's what he thought it was. But as he got closer, he realized it looked more like a sort of starship, but it was nothing like the ship models he had seen during his brief time in Starfleet.

He could smell burning things as he got closer to the (starship?) thing. Picard coughed as he neared the crash site, waving the smoke out of the air in front of him. He surveyed the possible ship. He couldn't quite tell what part of the ship was right in front of him. It looked perhaps to be the underside of the ship, but he could be wrong; it was a while since he had seen a starship.

Picard was about to turn away to go get someone when suddenly there was a sort of explosion. Something flew out of the ship with a bang. Picard jumped backward.

"What in the hell?" he said aloud.

To his shock, someone shouted, in French, "Hello? Did I hear someone?" Picard was so shocked he couldn't speak for a moment. "Hello?" the voice said. "Say something if you heard me."

"I- I heard you," Picard called out. "Who... who are you?"

There was a brief silence. Then the voice said, "...I don't know."

"You don't know?" Picard said, his brow wrinkled.

"I think I found a way out," said the voice. "Step back."

"Step b-" Picard began to repeat.

Suddenly, there was another sort of explosion from the starship thing, and a piece of the ship flew outward. Picard saw that there was now a hole in the object, and he walked over to it to get a closer look when someone emerged from the hole in the ship. It was a seemingly human man, several inches taller than Picard, with brown hair and light skin. He was wearing a rather drab gray outfit.

"Where am I?" the man asked in French.

"You're in La Barre," said Picard.

"Where is La Barre?" asked the man.

"In France," said Picard. The man looked confused. "France? You know, French? Like the language you're speaking?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said the man. "What planet is this?"

"What PLANET?" Picard repeated. "It's... Earth. You must know about Earth, right?"

"I... I think so," said the man. "I mean, I feel like I've heard of a planet called Earth before. But I... I'm not sure of too many things."

Picard didn't know what to do. "Then you're an alien," he said.

"I don't really know," said the man. "I mean, if I knew, I would tell you, but I don't."

"So I take it you don't have a name," said Picard.

"I do, actually," said the man. "It's one of the few things I remember. My name is Q."

"Q?" Picard said. "What kind of a name is Q? That's not a real name!"

"It's my name, which means it's a real name," said the man (Q?). "Do you usually argue so much with random people who crash in your vineyard?"

"Random people don't USUALLY crash in my vineyard," said Picard. "In fact, you might be shocked to figure out that this is the first such instance."

"Well," said Q. "Then I can only imagine how confused you must be." They just stood there for a few moments. "I think there's a problem. I feel this strange sensation in my... this area." He pointed at his stomach. "It's growling."

Picard couldn't help but smile. "It means you must be hungry," he said.

"Ah yes. Hunger. That must be it," said Q. He paused. "What is hunger?"

Picard decided he couldn't let someone so utterly confused and clueless navigate the world on his own, even a world so unthreatening as Earth. "Come with me," he said. "I'll take you inside and get you something to eat."

He led Q away from the wreckage and toward the house. "Is this your home?" asked Q as they approached it.

"Yes," said Picard. "It has been for a long time." Picard opened the door. "Please, come in." Q entered the house a bit cautiously. "Does anything about this look familiar to you?" Picard asked. "Do they have houses like this on your home world?"

"I don't know," Q said. "I can't remember."

Picard led him to the kitchen. He had a basket of bread on the countertop, and he offered Q a roll. "I do hope you know how to eat," Picard said, only half-kidding.

"Can you show me?" Q asked.

Picard's brow wrinkled. "You... really don't know how to eat?" Q shook his head. Picard took another roll from the bread basket and held it up to his mouth. "We use our mouths," he said. "Like this." He began to eat the roll. After a moment, Q began to copy him with the roll he was holding. They proceeded in this fashion until they had both finished their rolls. "See? It's really very easy," said Picard.

"Thank you," Q said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Picard said.

"Where... where are the other people?" Q asked.

"The other people?" Picard repeated.

"It just feels empty here," Q said. "Like there should be other people."

Picard felt a weight on his shoulders. "There are no other people," he said. "At least, not now, there aren't."

"Oh," said Q. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"No, it's quite all right," Picard said. "It's just that I was remembering something."

"I'm not very good at that," Q said.

Picard smiled. "No, you don't appear to be," he said.

"Can you tell me your name?" Q asked. "Do you have a name?"

"Oh, yes," Picard said. He had forgotten he hadn't told Q his name. "My name is Jean-Luc Picard."

"Jean-Luc Picard," repeated Q. "That's a long name."

"Well, maybe compared to 'Q'," said Picard.

"But it's a nice name!" Q said. "At least, I think it is. I don't know many names, though. Just yours and mine."

"I'll take it as a compliment, then," Picard told him. "So... what DO you remember?"

"My first concrete memories are in the starship that I just crashed," Q said. "Figuring out how to work the controls, at least sort of."

"And how long ago was that?" Picard asked him.

"I don't know... time is strange for me," Q said. "What is... how does time work?"

"Days on Earth are made up of twenty-four hours," Picard said patiently. "It's different on other worlds, so days might have been longer or shorter where you come from."

"What's an hour?" Q asked.

Oh, good lord, Picard thought. "It's made up minutes," said Picard. "Minutes are small. About one minute ago, I asked you what you remembered. That's a minute. There are sixty of them in an hour."

"Sixty! That's a lot," Q said.

Picard was privately a bit amused by Q's childlike wonder, but he kept it to himself. "And days are separated into weeks. There are seven days in a week. Weeks are separated into months. There are typically around four weeks in a month. Then, months are separated into years. On Earth, there are twelve months in a year. So, does that help explain things?"

"It's... it's all very confusing," Q admitted. "I'm not sure time works very... linearly, for people like me. But if a minute is how long as you said it is, and an hour is sixty minutes... yes, that's it. My first memories were probably only a few hours ago."

"Only a few hours?" Picard said incredulously. "You must have suffered some recent trauma."

"If I did," Q said, "I don't remember it." He paused. "Jean-Luc- can I call you Jean-Luc?"

"If you want to," Picard said. He had been going by his last name ever since he became the last Picard in La Barre, and it was a welcome change to hear his first name again.

"Jean-Luc... I don't know what to do," Q said. "Everything is very confusing for me. The only only home I've ever known is crashed out in your backyard. I don't have anywhere to go. Is it... is it all right if I stay with you for a bit? Just until I understand things better, I mean."

Picard smiled. "I don't mind if you stay with me," he said. "In fact, to tell you the truth, I've been getting a bit lonely in this house all by myself. All right. You can stay with me, and I'll help figure out how to do human things."

"What's the appropriate reply to that?" Q asked.

"'Thank you', I believe," Picard said.

"Thank you I believe," said Q.

Picard laughed. "Close enough."

XXXXX

Q's first week with Picard was a tumultuous one. Picard had to admit, it was a bit like caring for a child, albeit a child who appeared to be in his late thirties. Q just had no idea to do even the simplest of things, which resulted in more than a few messes. But Q was nothing if not thanking. It seemed after every mistake he made, he would say, "Oh, sorry, Jean-Luc!" and every time Picard did something for him, he would say "Thank you, Jean-Luc!" in such a cheerful way that Picard couldn't really be mad at him, no matter how many messes he made or how many things he broke.

Getting Q used to sleeping was one of the primary difficulties. Q had padded into his room late at night hugging a pillow on the first night that he spent at the Picard house. "Jean-Luc? I'm scared. I'm getting this strange feeling. It's washing over me. I feel like I'm about to go unconscious."

"That's called sleepiness," Picard had said, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. "Lie down in bed and you'll fall asleep eventually. It might be a strange feeling at first, but it's really quite nice when you get used to it."

"I'm still scared," Q admitted. "I'm worried that something will happen to me while I'm sleeping. Can I sleep in your room?"

Picard was a bit taken aback. "Well, if you want to, you can sleep on the couch over there," he said. "You can go get your blanket from your bed in the other room, and you should be decently comfortable."

"Okay. Thank you, Jean-Luc." Q returned with a blanket and made himself at home on the couch.

"Goodnight, Q."

"Goodnight, Jean-Luc."

When Picard woke up for his morning walk, Q had still been asleep on the couch curled up in a ball, his face peaceful. Picard had been slightly worried when Q didn't wake up for another six or so hours. It turned out that since Q had never slept before, he had a need to do so in great capacity. Picard had made a mental note to introduce Q to the wonders of alarm clocks the next morning.

That night, just like the night before, Q came walking into his room at night. "I'm getting the feeling again," he reported.

"When you get the feeling, you should stay in bed," Picard said sleepily. "That way you'll fall asleep faster."

"Can I sleep in your room again?" Q had asked. "Just for one more night?"

Picard agreed. The next morning, he woke up Q at 0800 hours for a morning walk. They walked around the property. Q kept pointing out every little plant and animal with wonder, which Picard had to admit was kind of endearing. Picard had patiently explained what birds were. Several times.

("What's that?"

"That's a bird, too."

"Really? I thought you said birds looked different."

"...there are several types.")

Another difficult thing Picard had noticed was food. Q just didn't understand the need to take in food. He had to be reminded to eat, and only when he skipped a meal and his stomach started rumbling did he notice that it was a necessary function. Then, he couldn't stop eating.

At first, Q also had a difficult time with different types of food. The first thing he could ever remember eating was a roll that morning when he crashed in the vineyard, so at first he couldn't imagine why anyone would eat anything but bread. With a bit of bemusement, in that first week, Picard had introduced him to different types of food. Q was astounded by the variety, and even more astonished when Picard pulled out a replicator (which he normally only used on special occasions) and replicated dish after dish from culture after culture. There had been such joy in his eyes.

A tradition of Picard's began to be a tradition he now shared with Q: every night, he would watch the sunset out the window. It had always been a time of reflection to him. The sun was, after all, just a star, one of so many in the galaxy, in the universe.

Sometimes Picard thought of how his life might have looked if he hadn't gotten stabbed through the heart. Maybe he would be in Starfleet, boldly going, exploring new worlds. In the system of some other star. And, he couldn't help but wonder- would he have been happy?

He sat by the window with Q one evening, and was thinking about what could have been, when Q said, "Jean-Luc?"

"Yes?" Picard said.

"How many people are on this planet?" Q asked.

"Very many," said Picard.

"So, like... one hundred?" Q said.

Picard laughed. "More like eight billion."

"Eight BILLION?" Q said, incredulous.

"That's right," said Picard. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just..." Q said. "I've been at your house for a week now, and... and I haven't seen any other people."

"Oh," Picard said. He sighed. "Well, that has more to do with my nature than the nature of this planet. You see, I'm a very solitary person. I have been since... For a while now," he said.

"I don't mind," Q said. "Other people might scare me or ask too many questions."

"Do I ask too many questions?" Picard asked.

"Sometimes," Q said. "But never to the point where I feel too uncomfortable."

"That's good," said Picard. He was thinking about so many things in that moment that it felt difficult to even choose one to think about.

"The sunset is nice tonight," said Q.

"Yes," said Picard. Just another star. "It's very nice."

XXXXX

There was a comet passing over one night. Picard and Q watched it with old-fashioned binoculars a few hours after sunset.

"So I come from somewhere out there," Q said.

"You must have, since you came here in a starship," Picard told him. "I suppose you could be a human, but it's unlikely. You say time passes strangely for you, and you didn't know about things like hunger and thirst. I wonder if you're even supposed to be in a human body." They watched the comet some more. Picard happened to look over at Q, and when he did, he saw that Q was narrowing his eyes, looking very concentrated. "Q, what are you doing?"

"Trying to change shape," Q said. "It's not working, is it?"

"Maybe you don't do it by narrowing your eyes," Picard said helpfully. "Maybe you spin in a circle. Maybe you clap your hands. Or maybe you just do it by thinking about it."

Q thought for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers. "Damn," he said. "I was sure that was going to work. Just a feeling... like I'd done it before."

"Why don't you stop trying to change shape," Picard suggested. "It was just an idea, anyhow."

"Yeah," said Q. "I suppose it was just an idea."

Picard put the binoculars up to his face as he looked at the comet and its tail as it soared through space. It was really quite beautiful. Somehow mysterious. Like Q.

What? Picard thought. Where did that thought come from?

"I don't know," Q said.

Picard stared. "I'm sorry?" he said. Did he just read my thoughts?

"I don't know where I came from," Q said with a sigh. "I know it's silly, but I was hoping that maybe looking at the comet would make me realize."

"Oh," said Picard, very glad Q couldn't read his thoughts. "That's all right, Q. Maybe it'll come to you eventually."

XXXXX

"Jean-Luc?" Q asked, standing by the wall. "Who are these people?"

He had found the photographs. Picard knew he would eventually. It wasn't like he deliberately tried to hide them -not really, anyway- and Q must have seen them before, but only chose now to comment on them.

"These are my family," Picard said, joining Q by the wall. "This is Robert, my brother, and Marie, his wife. And that's their son, Rene."

"Oh," said Q. "Jean-Luc... what happened to them?"

Picard was silent for a moment. "There was an accident," he said shortly. "It... it shouldn't have happened. Sometimes I think it was never meant to be, that, well... I don't know. I'm sorry, Q. I don't like talking about it."

"That's all right," Q said. Then, after a minute, "Jean-Luc?"

"Yes, Q?" Picard asked.

"Do... do I have a family?" Q asked.

"I don't know," Picard said. "Do you think so?"

"I feel like I must," Q said. "But they can't have been that great, or maybe I would have remembered them."

"Maybe so," said Picard, looking at the wall of photographs. "Maybe so."

XXXXX

Picard didn't know what he found so alluring about Q. He had never been the type to be excessively interested in aliens. And really, the whole situation was so dubious. He had only known Q for less than three weeks. And the man had barely any memories, for goodness's sake! But there was something so alluring about Q. Maybe it was the unique innocence in how he viewed the world. Maybe it was the polite way he said "Jean-Luc?" before asking a question. Or maybe it was just as simple as the way he looked.

Picard hadn't been in a relationship for years, especially a relationship with a man. Those were mostly designated to his academy days. Somehow, away from his home, away from his family, he had feel more free to be in relationships with men. So after the incident where he was stabbed through the heart, he turned back to more heterosexual relationships, and then, finally, to no relationships at all.

But there was something about Q that he found himself attracted to. It was a bit contrived, but it felt like fate that Q had crashed his starship in Picard's backyard. Maybe it was some sort of cosmic sign.

Or maybe it was something more basic than that. Maybe it was because, during his time caring for Q, Picard was learning how to better care for himself. He hadn't felt this good in years, not since the accident with his family. Maybe taking care of Q meant learning how to take care of himself again.

XXXXX

It came up in conversation that Q wasn't the first alien Picard had seen. Picard mentioned something about his days in Starfleet Academy, and when Q looked surprised, he realized he had never mentioned that he had been in Starfleet before.

"So why aren't you on a starship?" Q asked. "You know, exploring and all that?"

"There was an incident," Picard said. "Did I ever tell you that my heart is artificial?" So he told Q about that whole period of his life. Q looked at him with wonder the whole time. "So, you see, I quit Starfleet," he said. "Losing my heart was too much. That crossed the line. I couldn't imagine what else I might lose. I was scared, I suppose. So I returned here to La Barre, and I've been here ever since."

"Wow," said Q. "Do you ever regret it?"

"Sometimes," Picard said. "Well, more than sometimes, actually. I can't help but wonder that in some alternate universe, there's a version of me who's, oh, I don't know, some sort of starship captain, exploring new worlds, meeting new people, boldly going and everything."

"Maybe," said Q. "Maybe I wasn't supposed to be here, either. Maybe I'm really supposed to be on some alien planet, with alien people, just living my life. Maybe I was never supposed to crash in your vineyard."

"That could be," said Picard. "But we're both here, aren't we? And now we have to deal with it."

XXXXX

It was a bit more than a month after Q had crashed in the vineyard when Q started to remember. Small things at first, and very slowly. At first the memories came in form of dreams.

One morning, Q shook Picard awake early. "Jean-Luc," he said. "Something important happened."

"What?" Picard asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What happened?"

"I had a dream," Q said.

"People have dreams all the time, Q," said Picard, rolling over.

"No, you don't understand," Q said frantically. "It was more than a dream. It was a memory. I just know it. I didn't have a body. All around me was space. And there were... people talking to me. I felt almost... I don't know. Safe? Happy? Something like that."

"How can you tell it's a memory?" Picard asked.

"I just can," Q persisted. "Jean-Luc, I know it's a memory. Or some kind of vision. I just know it."

"Okay," Picard said. "So what does it mean?"

"I don't know," Q said.

XXXXX

A day later, Picard asked him if he wanted to go to a walk, and Q said, "HISlaH." He got a panicked expression on his face. "Si? Ano? Ja? Oui!"

"Q?" Picard asked. "What's wrong?"

Q struggled to form words for a moment. Then he said, "I don't know. I just was thinking saying the word 'yes', and suddenly I remembered how say yes in other languages."

"Well, that first one is Klingon," said Picard. "I remember a few words from my academy days. The rest are Earth languages. How did you know how to say that?"

"I don't know," Q said. "I can say other things, too. Suddenly I can think of... so many languages!"

"What languages do you know?" Picard asked.

Q thought. "That's just the thing," he said. "I can't think of any language I DON'T know."

"Oh," said Picard, taken aback. "Perhaps your alien race... transcends the need for language... and can know every language they put their mind to?" He sighed. "I'm not sure, Q. But this is a good thing. It appears as if your memories are coming back."

"I know that's supposed to be a good thing," Q said, "but for some reason... for some reason, it just doesn't feel like it."

XXXXX

That night, they watched the sunset out the window. Tonight's was particularly vivid, pinks and oranges and purples and reds beautifully spread out in the sky.

"It's getting to be autumn soon," Picard said. "Have I told you about seasons?"

"No," said Q. "But I think I remember what they are. Earth has four of them, right? Winter, spring, summer, and autumn?" Picard nodded. "It's late summer right now, then." Picard nodded again. "I think I like it when it's warm out."

"It won't get terribly cold here," said Picard. "The winters aren't so bad." He realized. "I mean... if you plan on staying here that long. Who knows? By then, you might have all your memories back."

"Maybe," Q said. "But unless they can tell me where to find my family, I won't know where to go."

"Well," said Picard, "until you know, you can stay with me."

They were quiet for a few minutes as the sunset grew dimmer. "Jean-Luc?" Q asked eventually.

"Yes, Q?" Picard said.

"If I left," Q said, "would you miss me?"

Picard pretended to think about it. The answer was obvious. He knew he would miss Q. The weeks they had spent together had been the best in recent memory. He had enjoyed caring for Q. It was like having family again.

"Jean-Luc?" Q said.

"Yes," Picard said. "Yes, I would miss you, Q. I... I would miss you a lot."

XXXXX

Picard and Q were washing dishes in the kitchen one day when Q disappeared. It was just like that- one moment, he was there, the next, there was a flash of bright white light and then Q was gone.

"Q?" Picard asked, his hands soapy, his voice scared. "Q, where are you? What happened?" And then Q appeared again, in the same place he had been when he left, looking shocked. "Q? What happened?" Picard exclaimed.

"I don't know!" Q said, looking just as surprised as Picard. "I just snapped my fingers -I kind of picked up the habit- and suddenly I was gone."

"Yes, I know you were gone," said Picard, "but how did you do it? And where did you go?"

"I don't know," Q said again. "It was a place filled with stars and nebulae. It wasn't anything like here."

"Try doing it again," Picard said. "Snap your fingers, and think about going back to that place."

Q snapped his fingers. As soon as he completed the motion, he was gone. In a few seconds, he was back, still looking baffled. "I did it again!" Q said.

"Yes," said Picard, befuddled. "You did."

XXXXX

It became clear that teleportation wasn't the extent of Q's newfound powers. He and Picard were taking a walk around the vineyard when they happened upon a dead robin on the ground.

"Oh no," Q said. "What's wrong with it?"

Picard realized Q had never seen a dead thing before. "It's not alive anymore, Q," Picard said.

"But that's awful!" Q said. "Why do things have to die?"

Picard didn't have a good answer for that. "It's just the way things are here on Earth," he said, "and on probably most planets, too. Let's move on, Q."

Picard began to move on when suddenly he heard Q said behind him, "I made it better."

Picard turned around. To his utter shock, Q was crouching on the ground, holding the robin in his hands. But the robin was... alive. Perfectly alive!

Q stood, slowly stroking the feathers on the bird's back. "See?" he said. "It's better now."

"Q!" Picard said. "You... you brought that bird back... back to life?"

"Yes," Picard said. "Humans can't do that?"

"No!" said Picard, astounded. "No, humans can't do that, Q! If we were capable of such things, we wouldn't let anyone stay dead! Q..." He was at a loss for words.

The bird flew out of Q's hands and away into the sky. Q wiped his palms on his pants. "What's wrong, Jean-Luc?" he said. "Aren't you happy I brought the bird back?"

"Well, yes," Picard said, "but Q... do you know what this means? Q... this means that your people aren't just any other alien species. You have powers. Enormous powers. You can speak any language. You can teleport yourself. And you can brings things back from the dead. What... what CAN'T you do?"

"I can't remember my memories," said Q helpfully.

Picard let out an amazed chuckle. "Yes!" he said. "That's the only thing. Come on Q, we're going back to the house. We need to do some research."

XXXXX

After hours of research, Picard was still at a loss as to what kind of alien Q was. He had done everything short of telling his old Starfleet friends about Q. Somehow, that seemed wrong, like Q was his secret to keep. He heard aliens who could camouflage themselves, life forms who could temporarily cause dead things to move about, and aliens whose universal translators were so sophisticated that they could understand most languages, but nothing like Q.

After his research had failed, Picard joined Q at the window to watch the sunset.

"No luck?" Q asked. His face looked as if he already knew the answer.

"No luck," Picard confirmed. He sighed. "I've always had a knack for mysteries. I love detective novels. But when a mystery shows up at my door, or rather, crashes in my vineyard, I just can't seem to figure it out."

They were silent for a while. Then Q said, "Do you wish I hadn't started to remember?"

"What?" Picard said. "No! I'm glad you're starting to remember, and that you're realizing your powers. It's just... it's just difficult for a human like me to handle."

"Okay," Q said. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, Q," said Picard. I couldn't be, he wanted to say.

"I know you couldn't be," Q said aloud.

Picard's eyes widened. "Wait," he said. "Did you just-"

"Jean-Luc," Q said tentatively. "I have a... confession."

Picard threw up his hands. "I might as well hear it."

"I've been able to hear your thoughts for three days now," Q said.

"WHAT?" Picard exclaimed. "And you didn't tell me?"

"No," Q said, his voice timid. "It seemed like it would be better if you didn't know."

"So you're telepathic, too," Picard said. "Excellent."

"Are you mad at me now?" Q asked.

"No," Picard said, exhaling. "No, Q, I'm not mad at you. I just... I just don't like having my thoughts read."

"That's okay," Q said. "I can turn it off."

"Please do," Picard said.

"The sunset was nice tonight," Q said absentmindedly.

"Yes," said Picard, his head spinning. "It was."

XXXXX

"Continuum," Q said suddenly over breakfast one day.

"I'm sorry?" Picard said.

"The Q Continuum," Q said. "That's the name of my species! Q isn't my name- it's the name of my people! Or- or maybe it's both! Jean-Luc, we've got to look it up!"

Picard was already on his feet, and both he and Q hurried to Picard's study. "Computer," he said, "please display all data on the Q Continuum."

"There is no data matching the description 'the Q Continuum'," the computer said in a pleasant female voice.

"What?" Q said. "I'm sure that's the name of my people! I know I have it right!"

"There's got to be a mistake," said Picard. "Computer, repeat search." But it still yielded no results. "How can that be?" Picard wondered. "Or-" It dawned on him. His inner detective had an idea. "Wait. Maybe there's no data on the Q Continuum not because it doesn't exist, but because the computer doesn't know about it?"

"So... you think this is first contact?" Q asked.

"Maybe," Picard said. "Mon dieu... I never thought I'd make first contact after I dropped out of Starfleet! Do you remember anything else about your people? Do they look like humans?"

"I don't think so," Q said. "I... I don't know."

"Even though the computer can't provide us with anything," Picard said, "we've just made remarkable progress."

"Continuum!" Q said happily. The look in his eyes was so joyful that Picard couldn't help but smile.

XXXXX

Picard couldn't sleep that night. He just kept thinking about Q, who was sleeping on the couch in his room just a few yards away. He couldn't shake a certain feeling of discomfort that had been building ever since Q started regaining his powers.

Continuum, Picard thought to himself.

A part of him did wish that Q had never started to remember. Things were easier back when he was explaining to Q how to drink tea, or what a bumblebee was. Now everything was overshadowed by Q's immense powers, and the realization that things were only going to get more complicated.

Picard sat up in bed and watched Q. Q looked peacefully, blissfully asleep, his face relaxed, like the weight of everything that was happening wasn't even on his shoulders.

Picard knew he should be happy for Q. But if Q realizing his powers and his memories meant him growing distant from Picard, or having to leave... he didn't want it to happen.

He lay back down in bed with a sigh and rolled over, trying to find a more comfortable position to sleep in. And he couldn't help but wonder if Q was more trouble than he was worth.

XXXXX

"Jean-Luc?" Q asked one day.

"Yes, Q?" Picard replied.

"Can I show you something?" Q asked.

"Yes," said Picard. "What is it?"

"I think I can teleport without snapping my fingers," Q said. "I think I'm just attached to the gesture. And... and I think I can take you with me."

"Take me with you?" Picard repeated. "Where?"

"To that place in the stars," said Q. "Can I? I want to show you. It's really beautiful. I think you'd like it. Please?"

"Can humans even exist in that kind of place?" Picard wondered.

"I can make it so," Q said.

"Well..." Picard said. He had to admit, he was reluctant. But he was curious about this place in the stars that Q had talked about teleporting to. "All right."

"Great!" Q said. "Hold my hand."

"Do I have to hold your hand to teleport with you?" Picard asked.

"No," Q admitted. "It would just make me feel better."

So Picard took Q's hand. It was the first time, he realized, that they had held hands like this. He couldn't help but turning a little pink. He hoped his hands weren't too sweaty.

"Ready?" Q asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Picard said.

Suddenly, they disappeared from the Picard house. They now were in a great black place dotted with stars, swirling with nebulae. It was all sorts of beautiful colors, sparkling and lovely. It was the most beautiful thing Picard had ever seen.

Just as suddenly as they appeared, they were back in the house, in the same room they had disappeared from, still holding hands.

"Well?" Q asked.

Picard couldn't form words for a moment. "Q!" he managed eventually. "Q, that was... that was amazing!"

"I thought you would like it," Q said triumphantly.

"Have you ever considered that maybe that place is your home?" Picard asked.

"Maybe," Q said, "but there weren't any other people there." He looked down at their hands. "Oh. I guess we can let go now."

Picard let out a forced laugh and let go of Q's hand. "Yes. I suppose so."

XXXXX

That night, the sunset was a lovely shade of purplish pink. Picard and Q watched it out of the window. Picard loved how Q's face looked when he watched the sunset. It was as if for Q, every sunset was the first.

Q was really very beautiful. Picard couldn't let go of his admiration for him. He was like an embodiment of all those stars out in that black space. Picard loved his eyes. There was a curiosity in them, and something bright and somehow intelligent. Picard loved Q's hair. He wanted to run his fingers through it.

Q may have been looking out the window at the sunset, but Picard... Picard just couldn't stop looking at Q.

XXXXX

"I did something bad," Q said. "That's why I'm here."

Picard was just trying to eat dinner. "What?"

"I think I've figured it out," said Q. "The Q Continuum was punishing me. That's why I was in that starship."

"They punished you by putting you in a starship?" Picard said.

"Well, maybe punishment isn't the best word," Q said. "Maybe it's more like... them trying to teach me a lesson."

"So you remember what happened before you woke up in the starship?" asked Picard.

"I think so," Q said. "I did something bad. I don't remember what it was, but it was bad. The Continuum decided that it was for the best if I get sent here. To Earth. No... not just to Earth. Here. Here, with you."

"With me?" Picard repeated. "You mean you were supposed to crash here?"

"Yes," Q said. "I don't know why, but yes."

Picard furrowed his brow. "Well," he said, "then we've got to figure it out."

XXXXX

Picard was falling asleep that night when he heard a voice from the couch say, "Jean-Luc?"

"Yes, Q?" Picard said.

"I was listening to your thoughts again," Q began.

"Q, I told you I don't like when you do that," Picard said.

"I'm sorry," Q said. "It's just that I needed to figure out what you were thinking about everything."

"You could have asked me," said Picard.

"I guess so," Q said. They were silent for a while. Then Q said, "Jean-Luc? Do you... do you like me?"

"Of course I like you, Q," Picard said. "I've taken care of you- we've lived together for over two months now. If I didn't like you, I would have thrown you out weeks ago."

"No," said Q. "I mean... do you LIKE me?"

Picard didn't need to ask what the implications were in Q's voice. "Oh," he said. "Well..."

"Because, um," Q said. "I like you."

"Oh," said Picard.

"So... do you like me?" Q asked again.

"Yes," Picard said. "Yes, I do like you, Q."

"Good," said Q. "Jean-Luc?"

"Hm?"

"Can I... never mind," Q said.

"What?" Picard said.

"Never mind," Q said. "Forget I said anything."

XXXXX

They woke up the next morning in the same bed, Picard's arms wrapped around Q, holding him tight. He sat up, and accidentally woke up Q.

"What is it?" Q asked sleepily.

"Nothing," Picard said. "Go back to sleep." Q fell back asleep. Picard got out the latest book he was reading and sat back in bed and read a few chapters. But he couldn't focus on them. He couldn't help but remember what had happened last night.

"Are you mad at me?" Q asked.

"No," Picard said. "It's okay, Q."

"Okay," said Q. "If you say it's okay, it's okay."

XXXXX

It was two days later when Q disappeared. This time, he wasn't back within seconds or moments. They were talking in the kitchen after breakfast when suddenly, mid-word, he was gone.

"Q?" Picard shouted. "Q? Come back! Q, can you hear me!"

After several minutes of shouting, he realized that Q couldn't hear him, or at least, that he wasn't going to respond.

He'll come back eventually, Picard thought desperately. He's got to come back eventually. Right?

Picard spent the whole day anxiously pacing around his house. It came time for his nightly ritual of watching the sunset. He sat by the window and watched as the sky began to erupt into beautiful colors. He was worlds away when he heard a tentative voice say, "...Jean-Luc?"

Picard turned around. "Q!" he said. "Q, oh, thank goodness. I thought you were gone for good."

"So did I," Q said.

"What happened? Where did you go?" asked Picard.

"I went home," Q said simply. "To that place in the stars. It was so beautiful." He took a deep breath. "And there were people there. I met my family. The Q Continuum."

"What were they like?" Picard asked.

"I don't know how to describe them to you," Q said. "They didn't look like anything I had ever seen before. More like patterns of energy than living beings. And when I looked down, I realized that I looked the same."

"Did they tell you what happened to you?" asked Picard. "Why your starship crashed here, I mean? Why you didn't have any memories?"

Q hesitated. "Yes," he said eventually. "They said this universe was a mistake."

Picard didn't understand. "What?"

"They said that this universe was a mistake," Q repeated.

"Yes, I heard you," Picard said. "But what do you mean?"

"The timeline changed when you quit Starfleet," Q said. "You were supposed to stay in Starfleet after you got stabbed through the heart, and become a captain."

"So we were never supposed to meet," Picard said.

"No, that's the thing," Q said. "We WERE supposed to meet. That's the whole reason I'm here. I'm here because we were supposed to meet while you were the captain of a starship. You were supposed to take command of the Federation's flagship this year. And we were supposed to meet."

"Q-" Picard started, head spinning.

"That's why I crashed in your vineyard, Jean-Luc," Q said. "Because my people knew that we still needed to meet. That maybe it would make the timeline better."

"But you said that you had done something bad," said Picard. "Isn't that why you were put in that starship in the first place?"

Q's face turned a bit pink. "Yes," he said. "I don't want to talk about that part. Let's just say it was something bad."

"I can't believe this," Picard said. "I have so many questions..."

"I can try to answer them," Q offered.

"Here's one I need to know the answer to," said Picard. "Q... what's going to happen to you?"

Q sighed. "My people are omnipotent," he said. "Immortal. We can do anything we please. If I wanted, I could go home. To the Continuum."

"I thought the Continuum was your species, not a place," said Picard.

"It's anything you could ever want it to be," Q said.

"So are you going to do it?" Picard asked. "To go home to the Continuum?"

Q hesitated. "No," he said eventually. "I can't. Now that I've met you, even though I have my memories back, I can't just leave you. I want to stay with you. I mean... if that's all right with you. Is it all right with you?"

Picard smiled. "Yes," he said. "Yes, it's all right with me." They both stood there for a moment. Then Picard said. "Come here. You're going to miss the sunset."

Q came over to him and reached out for his hand. Picard took it, holding his hand tightly. He had been gone, and now that he was back, Picard wasn't going to let him go.

They stared out into the infinite sunset.

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! I've had this fic idea for ages.  
> I spent way too much time on this, so I would love it if you commented. :)


End file.
